Kardæn the Journeyman
by PerverseLeigh
Summary: Kardæn and Maelith are life bonded but he must finish his training. Follow him on his two-year journey and discover his hidden potential. Sequel to "Maelith's Inn"
1. Chapter 1

_**Please be advised that while most of the characters and situation have come from my own imagination, the universe in which they are set and any characters that are mentioned in passing referance are the intellectual property of Mercedes Lackey**_. _**I claim no rights to her property, this story is a celebration for the love of a beautiful universe and nothing more.**_

**This chapter is a kind of catch-up to orient the reader to a new point of view and retells some of the story line from Maelith's Inn. Thanks for being patient! I'm kinda new to the chapter system as my last stoy was a lump download. Please feel free to tell me what you think!**

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**Kardæn the Journeyman**

Kardæn watched her storm out of the house... at least she was feeling better! He stepped up to the door frame just in time to see her assault Master Corsi with waves of pure rage.

Master Corsi picked himself up, brushed himself off and quirked an eyebrow in Kardæn's direction. Maelith turned and screamed at the scared boys on the well then took herself off to the cemetery. That seemed to be her favorite place to seek refuge.

He went to the stew pot and looked in then threw in some random vegetation, water and another couple rabbits that had been cleaned while he had been talking with Master Corsi. He stoked the fire and set the pot so that it would come to a boil.

He checked on the soldiers who were rebuilding the well and found them just finishing up. He offered them more of the stew and they gratefully accepted. He left them to it while he brought a bowl to Mae.

He felt her sorrow before he heard her sobs and knew what that pain was. It resonated with every painful memory he could recall... Loss. Hollow, soul-swallowing, breathtaking loss. He stood next to her watching her body shudder with silent sobs for a few moments until he was certain she knew he was there then placed the stew on the cold stones of the fence and squatted in front of her.

She picked her head up to look at him, her face was red and her eyes swollen from crying. "Kardæn," She projected her feelings of confusion and loss as well as spoke her weirdly beautiful language, "Ay'm sore'ee... Ay jus - Ay jus doht noh..."

He tucked his hands gently around her upper arms and lifted her with him as he stood. He kissed her then, for the first time. No longer able to deny his hunger for the taste of her mouth, tightly locking away his fear of everything she represented and just allowing himself to love her. He knew Master Corsi would come for him in the morning and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her without knowing for sure...

He explained life-bonding to her with his thoughts and his thoughts and emotions as he held her and felt her soften in his arms then kiss him back more soundly. She shared with him her people's tradition of soul mates and her relief that he didn't think her to be a fool. He broke off their kiss then to throw his head back and laugh in a couple short, loud bursts of emotional release. His fears faded in the sound of his joy. He tilted his head back down to look in her deep blue eyes then touched their brows together. He shifted his grip on her, wrapping his arms around her firmly keeping her body pressed to his and rocking her like a beloved child.

They made love that night. Not the spectacularly perfect lovemaking a bard will tell of but all the more special for their lack of familiarity with each other. He drifted to sleep with her tucked into the cup of his shoulder, the combined comfort of her body molding perfectly with his and sleeping on an actual bed instead of the straw-filled mat on the floor made for the deepest sleep he'd had since he left for Shonar so many weeks ago.

Early the next morning he packed his knapsack while she watched him from her bed. Her eyes followed him around the room but she made no other move to stop or help him. She knew he had to leave, and why, but she was not going to hurry him out the door.

He finally could find nothing more he needed to take with him so he set about making something to eat. Mae sat up on the bed and wrapped the quilt around her scarred torso and continued to watch him. She watched him as he made flat breads, she watched him make porridge, she watched him cut off chunks of ham and fry them in her mother's iron skillet.

She finally seemed to break away from her miasma enough to shrug into a worn tunic of his that she had adopted as a nightshirt and pad across the floor to him. She took the pot of boiled beans out of his hands, kissed him on the cheek and started to smash them into a paste with a few of her dried herbs.

Kardæn boiled water and made Mae's favorite tea of pole mint and spice bark while she mashed the beans into a spicy paste that would last almost forever. She finished mashing the beans, potted them then wrapped up a huge portion of flat breads in linen and placed them both on top of his sack.

She straightened up and he pulled her to him, folded her into his embrace and held her there for a long moment.

_**::I was alone for a long time before I met you,:: **_Her thought drifted into his mind _**::I'll be alone after you've gone... but there's nothing that can make me like it.::**_

He kissed the top of her head _**::I know, beloved...:: **_It was then that they heard the approach of many people from the direction of the new town. _**::It's time.:: **_Maelith nodded into his chest then pulled away. She pulled out a rough square of cloth he had given her a few weeks ago, dabbed her eyes with it, then handed it to him. She had hemmed it and stitched her name into it in her own language and his.

_**::Bring it back to me.::**_ her thoughts were laced with disparity held tightly back by the iron will that he so admired about her. She was so sad, but she knew that this was not the time to mourn. She would most likely wait until he was out of perception before breaking down into a sodden heap. Now, however, she simply packed the food into the top of the bag and handed it to him.

He opened the door, let her through it, and walked with her out to the road. Master Corsi bowed 'good morning' to Mae, which she returned with a curt nod as many of the young soldiers looked on, white-eyed, in awe.

Kardæn hefted his pack onto his shoulders, gave her a long kiss of parting and left without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

Kardæn walked down the road in silence, the sound of soldier feet being the only sound he could hear in this oddly quiet troop.

After a long while he could hear quiet chatter start somewhere behind him. The men and boys started to relax and talk amongst themselves, though never breaking their uniform stride or gaining the noise levels of a crowd, the quiet murmur gained strength and became a soothing white noise to surround Kardæn's thoughts.

They weren't the thoughts of a desperate man, nor a heart-broken one. He knew that no matter how long it took him to come back, Maelith would be there to welcome him. Instead of wallowing he set his thoughts toward his training. He wanted to learn how to call the energies like Master Corsi had for Mae or even talk to the Earth Mother like Mae had that one time. He wanted to have something to bring back to his lover that was more than the untrained abilities of a hedge-wizard.

As he walked, he refocused his eyes to see the under-laying energies in the world around him. The flora and the land beneath it still had a sickly air but with every step closer to the capitol they walked it grew stronger, cleaner. As if the steadying presence of Hardorn's new king was allowing the land to heal herself more quickly. The fauna, in their animalistic nature, were breeding and spreading like wildfire. The smallest first; worms and insects; aerating the soil, pollinating the plants, spreading the basics of life and easing the way for the larger furred, feathered and scaled creatures to populate the country-side.

The march was rather uneventful and they were only a week out from Shonar so it became monotonous. After a couple days he fell into the stride and found that the rest breaks and meal times came quickly and the camp chores were easy so falling into his cot at night seemed to come quicker and quicker.

"Just relax and concentrate." Master Corsi coached, "Remember to breathe slowly..." his voice droned on in a low voiced rhythm that invaded Kardæn's consciousness and somehow expanded it.

He was sitting in front of the small cook fire, staring into it as it popped and fluttered cheerily in the light breeze. The soldiers were settling down in their tents with faint murmurs of conversation and rustling of fabric. The only people still out of their tents, just beyond the perimeter of the orderly military camp, were the soldiers on watch.

Kardæn steadied his breathing and stared deeply into the flickering light... The gentle fluctuations seemed to pull him in but not down. Almost like a casual lover embracing him with warm welcome, a light and uplifting feeling. That's when he realized that the fire had a kind of life of it's own. Not an intelligence, or a will per se; but a life no less vital than that of a tree or even a very early-term fetus. Content, loving, pure... Life. Even in the undeniable, unadulterated light there were different shades. Not exactly shadows but differing colors and strengths of light. He tested the feel of every shade exploring the subtle textures and even taste and smell of the light. He was absolutely enthralled by the entire existence of the flames, how they consumed the wood and other fuels, how it breathed the air that flowed through it, how good the warm earth felt beneath it... when a gnat started buzzing in his ear.

He waved the annoyance away, never taking his eyes off the flames, but it only became more insistent. He swatted at it and it grew larger so he tried striking out at it.

He felt the cold death of the flames then, screaming agony as an unexpected deluge of water smothered and drowned the brightness. His link was broken painfully and he was starting into the wary and concerned eyes of his mentor and the captain of the watch. The former had his hands on Kardæn's shoulders, shaking him, the latter held a dripping bucket over the large, blackened, steaming hole where the cook fire had been.

Kardæn's mind hurt, not exactly a headache, but more like a small piece of his soul had been drowned with the fire. His soul yearned to have the fire back, to meld with it, to succumb to it... He shook his head, startled by that ache to lose himself to the fire and a little scared.

"What happened?" Kardæn looked around and noted that the sky was starting to lighten, "What's going on?"

"I'll let you get back to it, Master Cleric," Said the Captain, "I hope I don't have to tell you that he's restricted from playing with the fires like that, again, while you're with us."

"Yes, Captain," Master Corsi agreed, "I'm fully aware... now." He took his hands off Kardæn's shoulders and handed him a cup of willow and pole-mint tea. "Drink this and take a couple hours' nap."

"Yes, Master Corsi." Kardæn said noting the listless quality of his own voice. He knocked back the tepid concoction in one gulp and asked, again: "What happened?"

"We'll speak of it later." It was no use arguing when Master Corsi used that tone. There would be no further discussion, until Corsi was ready to explain. "Rest." and he pointed toward the tent.

Kardæn was cold.

He fought to open his eyes feeling as though his entire body was filled with wet sand. He fought with his heavy arm to bring his hand up to his face and wiped at his eyes until he could open them. The light inside the tent was too bright, the birdsong too cheerful and his body too cold. He glanced about the tent he shared with Master Corsi and found it bare. Master Corsi had already packed all of their belongings, including the blanket that had been covering his body, so all that was left in the tent was him, his brown, woolen cloak that he had rolled-up to use as a pillow and his cot.

Fair enough... He shoved his legs over the side of his cot and hoisted himself up to a sitting position. He picked up his cloak, shook it out and settled it about his shoulders, buckling the small clasp at his throat before standing up to walk outside into the early morning light.

The light was only brighter on the outside of the tent and his head began to throb. Master Corsi clasped his arm and thrust another cup of tea into his hands. "Drink." Was all he said before ducking into the tent to fold up the cot and carry it out.

Kardæn tossed back the newest cup of lukewarm tea and grimaced. He had asked his master why he always served his tea nearly cold, one time. "Two reasons," Corsi had replied, "First: it can sit long enough to be full strength; Second: The tea needs to be consumed quickly to work best. Hot tea can only be sipped slowly. Cold is best. If you don't like it, use the fire to warm it." Use the fire... He would have to think about that more when his head hurt less.

He turned about and helped Master Corsi collapse the tent with the ease of a couple weeks practice. They should be reaching the capitol late today at best, tomorrow morning at the latest and he could tell by the denser population that the people of Hardorn felt better living closer to their new King and his army.

Everything was packed onto carts and they set off again. Today, he noted, the towns looked richer and in better repair, not just better populated, and the hard-packed dirt of the road turned to actual paving. Not cobblestones, but pea stones set in some sort of hard mortar that was easier to walk on.

In a small hamlet, with a large town square, just outside of Shonar, they stopped for a late meal and watched as a small bard with gnarled hands told a story in his thick, Northern accent while drawing elaborate pictures on the hard road surface with a blackened stick and some chunks of chalk. His story finished as the troop was readying to leave and a few of the soldiers dropped coins into the artist's chalk bucket.

Kardæn walked up to the little man with a small packet of herbs, "I have no coin, bard, but maybe this will help the pain in your hands?"

The man clapped his hands together knocking small clouds of white dust off them then gingerly accepted the token. "Thank you, Cleric." He touched the packet to his forehead then tucked it into a pouch at his belt. "Mayhap one day you will trade to me a story, that I will trade to the peoples?"

"Mayhap, one day, I'll have a story to tell!" He assured the bard with a smile.

The bard smiled and waved as the troop marched out of the town square in properly impressive formation.

It was just after dark, that evening, when they made it to the city of Shonar. The buildings weren't tall or fancy, but in good repair and used well. Just inside the gates, Master Corsi waved farewell to the leader of the unit and beckoned Kardæn off the main road and onto a smaller, but no less used one.

The small road wound its way this way and that through the buildings on the outskirts of the town then through a park, newly forested with small fruit trees and sugar sap trees too evenly spaced and thick with crop trees to be a naturally grown wood but planted in such a way that the feel this place gave was that of a wooded grotto more than a city park.

Every now and again he would spy a person walking or kneeling in the grove, tending to the trees. They would look up, smile & nod or wave then turn back to the tasks they were lovingly tending.

The hardened paving surface of the city road was long gone. The surface of the garden path was well worn, beautifully tended dirt. Night was steadily growing darker and the chill in the air was beginning to nip at Kardæn's skin but this place was so warm and inviting he barely noticed the discomfort of the night air.

The rounded the final bend in the impossibly long path and came upon the temple and its complex of small, raised cabins.

The temple itself was not overly large, but it looked as though it could survive a short siege. Sturdily built of rock and mortar, plastered over with clay and lime stucco, the only entrance was at the top of a long row of shallow steps that climbed three stories onto the side of the building.

Kardæn followed Master Corsi up the steps and watched the thick, iron banded doors slowly swing open to reveal a wizened and ancient man in a well worn, plain tunic.

"AH!" The old man said with a smile, "Master Corsi! Apprentice Kardæn! We've been expecting you."


	3. Chapter 3

"OW!" Kardæn rubbed his forearm where the ages-old cleric had smacked him with a switch.

"No." The old man said calmly. "Ignore me. Concentrate on the sand."

Kardæn settled down, took a deep breath and took hold of the small metal bowl of clean sand with his hands and his mind. They had started him with water and instructions to set it on fire. He couldn't figure out how water was supposed to burn, so he'd concentrated on heating the water and gotten it to boil. Somehow that hadn't seemed enough for Master Corsi, but they had moved onto the next exercise. And the next... and the next...

Now he was concentrating on this bowl of sand and every time he got his focus steady enough old, wrinkled Master Aylen would beat him. As Mae would say: Talk about annoying!

He started vibrating the particles of sand, faster & faster. He could feel the sand starting soften, he could feel the heat strengthening... _SNAP!_ Master Aylen swung the switch and hit Kardæn in the face. Kardæn lost concentration and the sand exploded globs of molten glass into the air about them. Kardæn slammed up his shields but a few small specks had already landed on his hands and arms.

Kardæn cursed and started brushing the rapidly cooling liquid specks from his arms, ripping bits of singed hair and flesh away. He looked up at Master Aylen as the old man's shields quivered and globs of crystalline glass fell from them, clattering to the floor.

"Why don't you put your shields up at all times?" Master Aylen asked in mild reproach.

"I just don't think of it." Kardæn explained.

"How do you not think of it?" Master Aylen scoffed, "These things we tell you all the time. I get tired of saying them. You will be impervious to small attacks like glass spray, stones, _sticks_." And he slapped the switch down beside Kardæn forcefully enough to crack it in half. "What good is a fire mage who cannot protect his body against the fire?" He clicked his tongue, then and walked from the room.

Kardæn sighed and stretched. The marks on his arms were beginning to sting so he set off through the Temple gardens to the Healers' hut for ointment. While he was walking he thought about his shields. They were the first thing he was taught and he used them all the time. They were the first thing he was shown how to strengthen when he got here but now that they were stronger he didn't use them all the time, as he should.

Any time he wasn't actively thinking about having them up, they would come down. More aptly, they would melt away like a burning candle, slowly leaving him vulnerable to attacks. Masters Aylen and Corsi were always telling him to remember to keep them up.

He reached the point in the path where another forked off to the right. He took the right fork to the Healers' hut and walked up the wooden steps and into the cool, shaded waiting lounge.

"How may I help you, Kardæn?" The delicate young woman standing in the doorway to the long hall that connected the treatment chambers. Her thick, dark hair was tightly braided away from her bronzed face and the long braid had fallen over one shoulder.

"Ah... Hi, Jayleen." He lifted his arms for her to examine. "I think I need some burn ointment."

"I think you might be right, dearling." She took his wrist gingerly in her cool, dry hands and turned his arm over. "What happened to you?" She asked with concern in her eyes.

"Slightly molten sand..." He could feel his cheeks and ears heating up.

"You got sprayed by glass? And what about the mark on your face?" Her expression was a mix of concern, disgust and outrage. "What happened to your shields?"

"I, uhh, let them slip again..." He ducked his head down so he wouldn't have to look the Healer in the face but she pulled his head back up with a finger tucked under his chin so she could assess the mark that stretched across his cheek and nose.

"Slip? Heh..." Her generous lips formed a half-smile, "I should teach you the Healers' trick to keeping them up."

"At this point I'll do almost _anything_ not to get hit with another switch!"

"Anything, huh?" Her half smile became a full smile with an evil aire that put a gleam in her liquid brown eyes.

"Uh..." He wasn't too sure he wanted to know what she had in mind. "Almost."

"Look at you! All worried!" She laughed and released his arm and face. She walked across the room and started rummaging in a small cupboard."I'll teach you some of our tricks, since you have the Healing Gift and it's horrendously under-trained. My fee will be one day of seven you will help us Healers. You will get the training you need and practice in a place that has less flying sticks."

"That sounds good to me, but I don't know if it will be OK with Master Corsi."

"I've already told him that you need the training." She rebuffed. "I will talk to him about this deal. Here, take this." She walked to him and handed him a small clay pot of pungent yellowish ointment. "It will help soothe the burns and the welts."

"Thank you!" He said, smiling in relief.

"Don't thank me before you have found out what work I have for you!" She chided, "You very well may be cursing me come the end of your first day!" She grabbed his face, tilted his head down toward her and kissed him on the nose. She released him and patted his cheek. "I can't leave that mark to scar your pretty face, now can I?" she answered his confused look.

Kardæn touched the bridge of his nose and his cheek to find the skin smooth and without pain. He was wondering what she would be able to do with more than a kiss when he looked up at her and she winked at him. He slammed up his shields against his own thoughts leaking out and she giggled.

Work with the healers started almost immediately. He would train with Jayleen and a couple of her students for a few hours every morning, then meditate until noon meal and train with Masters Corsi and Aylen until evening meal.

"Breathe in... Hold your shields as you hold your breath." Jayleen's soft voice somehow filled the teaching chamber without her raising the volume. "Breathe out... Blow the energy into your shields."

Using his breath as a cue to strengthen and hold his shields worked like a charm, reminding him every time he breathed to keep his shields up. Master Corsi had remarked, the other day at morning meal, that he had seen Kardæn doing so in his sleep.

"Breathe in... Hold..." She continued her soothing chant. "Open your eyes..."

Kardæn opened his eyes and panicked at the sight of a huge bird head staring right at him. Suddenly he was surrounded by bright orange, searing heat as his shields lit a flame.


	4. Chapter 4

**OMG! I'm sooo sory this has taken so long! I got the chapter half-way done & BLAM! Hit the writing block WALL.**

**OK, you know the drill! I don't own anything in this story. Most of the characters are mine, but the entire universe they inhabit belongs to Mercedes Lacky.**

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Silent heat engulfed him, searing and comfortable. Protecting him; consuming him...

"Kardæn!" Jayleen's voice had not risen in volume, but it was all he could hear. "STOP!"

There was nothing he could want more than to obey her command. He regained his composure and breathed out his held breath, this time imagining his breath blowing out the flames. The roaring flames guttered and quelched as Kardæn got them under control.

He opened his eyes back up and took in the room about him. There was soot on the ceiling and the walls were slightly singed, but all in all there was a lot less damage than he had expected.

"You'rrre Velcome." He heard a pleasant tenor voice chuckle an answer to his astonished thoughts from outside the door.

He gathered himself up, running his hands through his sweaty hair and taking a deep breath. He stepped to where Jayleen was standing, just inside the door, and peeked around the door post.

The huge, black and brown raptor that was waiting for him gave a whistling guffaw before settling down to speak to the humans.

"Don't look ssso timid! I won't eat you." the gryphon tried to comfort him. "I preferrr rrrabbits."

"Ah... That's reassuring..." Kardæn faltered, then added lamely, "I do too."

"Grrreat!" The gryphon chuckled again, "We ssshall have dinnerrr sssometime."

"I'm sorry about the, uh..." Kardæn waved behind him at the practice chamber.

"No, I ssshould apologize." the gryphon rebutted, "I am a big guy. I ssshould have announsssed myssself. I am Phyrvith." The gryphon ducked his head, imitating a bow.

"I'm Kardæn." He clasped his hands in front of himself and bowed politely.

"I have heard of you, Kardæn. The fire mage in the earth priessst temple." Phyrvith cocked his bird-of-prey head so that one, fist sized, golden eye could focus better on Kardæn. "How did you do that vith yourrr ssshields? It's not verrry efficient, but could be ussseful."

"I'm not sure," Kardæn shrugged, "I was startled and they went 'POOF'!" He ended the sentence by flinging his hands into the air over his head.

"Ve ssshould sssee if you can do it again ssso I can follow what you do and trrry it myssself."

"Uh," Kardæn looked from the big, four-legged bird to Jayleen and back, "We?"

The Phyrvith and Jayleen exchanged a weird look. "We told you that we were going to bring in a mage to help you with the fire, Kardæn." Jayleen reminded him. "Phyrvith is a Master mage from Iftel with an affinity to fire."

"That isss how I vas able to hold yourrr fierrr ssshieldsss in."

"Oh." Kardæn frowned a bit, then shrugged. "Ah, I don't think I can do it again, right away... I feel like toppling over right now."

Phyrvith gave a weird rolling twitter that sounded almost like a chuckle. "I can guessss asss much." He cocked his head again and opened his beak in the approximation of a smile. "Ve vill have time laterrr. I'm ssstarrrving, sssshall ve eat?"

xXx

Kardæn fell back onto his bed roll, utterly exhausted. He was bruised, scraped, strained and burned. His head ached down to the middle of his shoulders and he could barely think, much less think of what to make for supper.

"You need to eat." Phyrvith cautioned; but Kardæn could only manage a grunt in reply.

They had trekked into the wilderness, just the two of them, in search of things less flammable and now Phyrvith thought that he could just torture his poor apprentice. They had reached an old cabin at the edge of a lake and Phyrvith had concocted an obstacle course of sorts once Kardæn had gotten them settled in. Day in and day out, Kardæn ran the course, trying to focus enough to use his magic without getting 'killed' by the 'enemy'. Phyrvith was always changing small things in the course to keep Kardæn from becoming too comfortable with it and today he had added magic to the mix of things that wouldn't quite kill his apprentice.

"I am not too sssure you want me to make yourrr sssupperrr..." Phyrvith called to him from outside the cabin. Kardæn felt Phyrvith's magic stir then the energy of a cheery fire start in the pit outside.

What seemed like moments later Phyrvith nudged Kardæn awake and used his hand-shaped talons to put a bowl beside him.

"I told you that I am not a good cook..." Phyrvith said in an apologetic tone.

In the bowl was a fist-sized chunk of meat that the gryphon must have torn off his own venison dinner, an orange root that had been cut into bite-sized chunks and oddly shaped, soft chunks of apple in a thin broth.

"I made yourrr tea too, but you have to pourrr it." Phyrvith backed out of the cabin so Kardæn could get to the fire.

"Thank you." Kardæn reached out and took the kettle Phyrvith was holding for him.

The meal wasn't that appetizing but Kardæn wasn't really awake enough to taste it. He crawled back into bed and fell into a deep sleep without even taking his shoes off.

xXx

Kardæn awoke with a start and shivered. At first he couldn't figure out where he was; he was still mentally wrapped in his dreams. He had dreamt of Maelith, of being in her arms; then there was something menacing, foreboding...

The foggy sleep started to clear from his head as he looked about the single room of the small cabin. He was sitting in his bed rolls, Phyrvith was on his mat with his head down on his paws for sleep. He looked closer at Phyrvith and saw that his eyes were open and alert; glittering in that special way they do when he's about to kill something small and tasty.

Kardæn heard something moving about outside their cabin and froze. All the hair on his body started to stand on end and he instinctively tightened his shields. There was a faint rustling sound just outside the open door and something dark with odd lumps on four legs came into view.

**:**_**Be ready, brother.**_**:** Phryvith silently warned him.

Kardæn closed his eyes as Phyrvith lit the creature in the doorway like a flint and steel in tinder. The thing let out a raspy scream that was answered by at least three more throats. These had been mountain cats before being caught in a change circle. Kardæn reached out to the pile of tinder by the fire pit and snapped that special place in his mind sparking the pile into a pyre, lighting the entire work yard.

Kardæn could see a couple of the other creatures now and wanted to weep for them. The once proud creatures were warped, twisted into shapes that should have been painful. Their fur was matted in places, skin bald and shiny in others, their claws didn't seem to retract anymore but were broken and dull.

The creature that was on fire didn't seem to know what to do about it Where a normal mountain cat would jump into the lake this misbegotten thing just stood in the work yard crying until Kardæn reached out with his healer-sense and released it from life.

Phyrvith jumped to his feet, fine feathers bristling, and leapt out of the cabin with a blood curdling war screech. Kardæn followed at a safe distance from the violence-lusting gryphon.

The rest of the pride had pushed into the clearing, now; eight in all. Kardæn watched, astounded as Phyrvith rushed the largest of the monsters, a creature who was at least half Phyrvith's size. The creature met him with arms outstretched like an enormous kitten at play. It gave that odd roar once before Phyrvith tore its throat out. The rest of the pride saw their strongest member fall and melted back into the forest.

Kardæn looked around the work yard, shocked, as Phyrvith wiped his beak on a patch of grass.

"I hope you know that you arrre gathering morrre tinderrr today." Phryvith told him.

Neither one of them slept another wink that night.

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